


Reacher In The Woods

by PicassoWithAPencil



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Writer AU, a whole lot of it, family love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 09:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PicassoWithAPencil/pseuds/PicassoWithAPencil
Summary: “How does Reacher plan on getting Ruth back?”Emma shrugged. “That’s what I don’t know. I’m stuck on that part.Regina sat down on the arm of her chair.Emma looked at her. “If you were Reacher, what would you do?”Regina found that question surprisingly easy. All she had to do was think of Henry.





	Reacher In The Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random idea I had after seeing Once Upon A Time In Hollywood. It’s not exactly the same, but the idea of being a has been/struggling writer stuck with a roadblock between the industry and their self esteem really stuck with me. Of course I wanted to make it SwanQueen haha I love them. I don’t know if I should make it a multi chapter, but if you want more leave comments! Enjoy!

Regina Mills cautiously approached the penthouse door. She was absolutely apprehensive to even knock. She had been servicing this building for about four years and this particular resident had never seemed to order anything. 

She never had mail, never ordered packages, nothing. Even what she had now, the small brown box, was so light it most likely didn't have too much inside. 

She remembered what the door woman, Mal had said.  _ “Honey if you've never delivered to this woman, never seen her face in all the four years you've been here, then she’s probably a vampire.”  _

Regina had laughed at that insinuation, but knowing her profession she could believe that. Emma Swan was a world famous writer of the die hard novel series,  _ Reacher in the Woods. _ It was about a woman who lived purely off the land while trying to outrun bad guys who kept chasing her due to her CIA past. 

Regina herself had never picked up a copy, but her son, Henry, had been a major fan of them. Regina even remembered the movies that were made. 

Well, for the most part she remembered being dragged to see them with Henry. She hadn't been a fan of the plot, but the occasional romance she put in there was nice. 

The author herself was very reclusive, never showing up for interviews or doing book tours. So when Regina had moved to New York, gotten a job at the Luxury Crown, she found out she lived here.

Albeit curious, Regina never bothered her, for she seemed to like her privacy. 

Regina took a deep breath and knocked as politely as she could on the door. Immediately a crash resounded from inside and Regina winced. 

The door flew open and the brunette came face to face with a haggard looking face and hard, green eyes. She glared at her, and Regina refused to flinch.

“What the hell are you doing at my door, woman?” Regina cleared her throat and wanted to sigh in frustration at how clenched her voice was. 

“I have a package for you, Miss Swan. I am the mail deliverer of this establishment. You ordered something off Amazon, I presume?”

“Look, lady, I don’t give two shits! You interrupted something pretty fucking important.” The harshness of her voice made her anger boil, and that wasn't a feeling that came out often. At least not anymore.

“May I ask, Miss Swan, what I interrupted?” She sighed and ran a hand through her tousled, blonde hair. “I was writing.” 

Regina sighed, and only felt slightly sorry. 

“I apologize, Miss Swan. Would you still like your package?” 

She sighed again. “Yeah. Just come on in and put it on the table.” 

Regina was surprised by the sudden invitation, but she walked in anyway. 

She tried to hide her gag of disgust when she walked in, but to no avail. There was food left out everywhere, beer cans in extremely random places, and dishes piled up past the sink boundary.

“Do you ever-” Emma spun to face her, her frosty gaze bristling, and said, “Do I ever what?” 

Regina sighed in irritation. There was no way in hell she was going to let this reclusive slob boss her around when she was just doing her job. 

“Well, I think someone would be inclined to ask about how much you clean considering you live in a pigsty!” 

She looked at her incredulously. “Huh. That’s pretty fucking rich, coming from someone like you.” 

She turned turned away before Regina could ask what she meant and walked into a different room. Regina had no idea if that was a dismissal or not, but she was following the blonde anyway. 

She spun to face her, surprise lighting up her gaze at the fact that Regina had walked with her. 

“I don’t really live out there like I do here. This is my studio.” Regina was absolutely shocked, for the neatness of the studio was completely juxtaposed to the squalor of her other living space. 

Regina glanced at the movie poster for  _ Reacher in the Woods, _ the random pieces of what looked liked professional photography, and the few abstract art framings that littered the room. “Is this where you write?”

She nodded, slumping down into her office chair and running a rough hand over her brow. Regina walked over to her backside and stared at the stark face of her computer, a chapter heading speaking out in a few bold letters. 

“Writer's block?”

Emma nodded.

“What’s going on in the world of Reacher?” The blonde sighed. “Reacher just lost her girl to the CIA, and now she has to rescue her from the director who wants his revenge.” Regina nodded.

“What’s the girls name?”

“Ruth.”

“How does Reacher plan on getting Ruth back?” Emma shrugged. “That's what I don't know. I'm stuck on that part.”

Regina sat down on the arm of her chair. She noticed how she tensed up at her movement, but gradually relaxed as she remained constant.

“How much does Reacher care about Ruth?” Emma blanched. It was Regina’s turn to be slightly confused. “What's wrong?” “No one's ever asked me that before.” 

The brunette was shocked. As a writer, she had expected those types of questions to come up.

“Well, what do you think?” Emma remained silent. Then she said, “If you were Reacher, what would you do?” 

Regina was caught off guard by the question, yet she felt she knew the answer. All she had to do was think of Henry.

“I would do anything, Miss Swan. I would sell my soul to get them back, even if it meant losing my innocence or integrity. To me, they would be worth more than just a label. They would be worth more than everything.” 

Emma stared at her with a look of incredulous wonder. “Who are you?” Regina shifted with embarrassment. 

“I'm Regina Mills, and I've worked at the Luxury Crown as a package deliverer for four years.” “Have you ever written anything before?” 

Regina was startled, but she proceeded anyway.

“I wrote a poem about my horse in the tenth grade.” Emma snorted. “Is that it?” 

Regina felt a rush of indignation flood her, and she knew her emotions were currently spotlighting themselves on her face. “Yes. And it was the poem of the month I'll have you know!” 

She chuckled. Regina huffed frustratedly.

“I wrote that in the tenth grade, Miss Swan. It most certainly is not going to be Shakespeare.” 

Emma ignored her comment, though Read hought she saw a hint of a smile on her face. “Why do you work here anyway?” 

Regina paused.

That story was complicated enough, not to mention it was long. “Depends. Are you in for a half hour of absolutely nothing and burgers?” 

Emma laughed, and Regina was surprised at how warm it sounded. “Sure.”

xxxx

“Well, it was originally my plan to come to New York as a social worker. I have the degree for it and everything.” Regina paused to take a bite of her salad, savoring the fresh flavor it left on her tastebud’s. 

They had ordered two burgers and a salad from the place a few blocks down the road. Regina could hardly contain her laughter at Emma’s wrinkled nose when she tried the salad. 

The blonde asked her, “How do you live like this?” 

She didn’t answer, just continued smiling. “My son, Henry, had a close call with leukemia as a toddler. He needed my help, my everything.” She was surprised at Emma’s undivided attention.

“So, I stayed at our apartment to care for him, working as a waitress at Granny’s, the place where we got our food, for a few years.

“ After I came back, the firm I’d already secured a position at gave it to someone else without my knowledge. I meant to only take this job as a stepping stone, but I just never bounced back I guess.” 

Regina waited Emma to say something, but the blonde remained quiet.

When Regina looked up, the writer had a thoughtful gaze in her eyes. “Would you like a job,” Emma blurted suddenly. Regina started. “Wh-what?”

Emma blushed. “I need an editor, and...and you seem like you know how to tell a story.”

Regina’s eyes widened. “You mean all this time you’ve never had a single person to proofread your work, Miss Swan?”

Emma smiles sheepishly. “I did. But I fired him. Apparently being a war hero with a missing hand is grounds enough to permit sexual harassment.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed, and she oddly felt some sort of protectiveness for the blonde. “Miss Swan, did he actually-“

Emma shook her head, eyes wide. “Oh no, no. He just got a hell of a good shiner and a knife in the foot to boot.”

Regina couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing in shock. “Miss Swan, you are quite the character.” Emma smiled, slightly more relaxed. “So...will you do it?”

Regina remembered her story; her shitty editor,

and what seemed to be a lonely existence. 

“Well, Miss Swan, when do I start?”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue? Maybe?


End file.
